Miles To Go
by midnight-blue
Summary: Sara clings to life in the aftermath of a robbery
1. Default Chapter

Title: Miles To Go  
  
Author: Midnight_Blue  
  
E-mail: autumn_rain86@hotmail.com  
  
Category: GSR, angst, drama  
  
Rating: I don't know...somewhere between PG and PG-13?  
  
Feedback: Yes, yes, yes!!! I need it like air! Let me know what ya think!  
  
Summary: Sara clings to life in the aftermath of a robbery  
  
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. This show is not mine, obviously. Wish it was, but there are other people of a higher caliber able to write such an amazing show. So...if you recognize any of the characters, they're not mine.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A silence had fallen over her; an eerie kind of silence.  
  
Everything seemed darker than it should be and she felt something she hadn't in a while: fear.  
  
Every thought she had was coming slower and slower, her mind growing sluggish with each passing breath. Her heartbeat seemed to slow as well, and she could only wonder what that meant. She used to know...some time ago...but now...she couldn't remember anything.  
  
A gas station...that's right. She'd been pumping gas; she'd gone inside to pay with Nick and Grissom had been waiting outside. There'd been a robbery.  
  
She'd heard a bang and then...she couldn't remember. Something like a dull throb in her side.  
  
She stumbled now, grasping desperately at anything solid in the darkness. She tried to form a word but all that came out was a grunt. Coldness began seeping into her body, her limbs going numb. Where was everyone?  
  
She could hear noises...footsteps all around her. Someone grasped her hand tightly.  
  
"Sara? Sara, it's Nick, can you hear me?"  
  
She tried forcing her heavy eyelids open, tried fighting against the darkness that threatened to take over. Grissom. She needed to stay awake for him; to see him one last time. Vaguely, and almost imperceptibly, she squeezed Nick's hand. He took it as a sign she was still with them and she was intending to stay. Sara, however, squeezed it because that was her goodbye to him.  
  
Suddenly, another pair of hands grabbed her, an arm slid under her shoulders and she felt a tiny bit of warmth seep into her. Maybe this wasn't the end.  
  
She knew who it was; always had known.  
  
"Sara, the ambulance is coming. You're going to be fine."  
  
She could feel the liquid death pooling around her and wondered whether he really meant that or was just a very good liar.  
  
Grissom's hand lovingly brushed a stray hair from her face.  
  
Somehow, she found the strength to speak. "I-I know. Chalk."  
  
She couldn't be sure, but it looked to her as though Grissom- the man without feeling- was struggling with his own emotions as his eyes misted ever so slightly at her comment.  
  
He smiled at her; not a genuine smile, but a smile haunted with sadness and guilt. She could do nothing, however, but hope that someday, far from now, there would be a time when he would smile once again and it would be free of the scars from his past. She hoped she wouldn't become one of those scars.  
  
Nick's hand still gripped her slack one tightly and she was eternally grateful for the two.  
  
"N-Nick?"  
  
The young man bent down towards her and she could see for the first time that he too had tears in his eyes.  
  
"T-Tell Catherine and Warrick..."  
  
He nodded, but it was a lie. He had no intention of telling them anything, for he knew she'd be around to tell them herself.  
  
Grissom looked towards Nick and spoke, "Where's the damn ambulance?"  
  
Nick couldn't answer and it hurt him even more.  
  
She could feel herself slipping away now. She'd try- God knows she did; she'd tried to fight it. But the darkness began to swallow her and she wondered briefly how the team would manage to investigate the scene. They'd do it, she knew. But they were her family, and she knew, beyond a doubt, that it would be the hardest thing they'd have to do. She wanted to shield them from that, but it was beyond her control now.  
  
She turned her head away from Nick and focused her glassy eyes up at Grissom. His right hand was soaked in her blood, trying desperately to stop the flow. His left cradled her to him like a lifeline. But the warmth started to fade and she knew it was time.  
  
"Gris?"  
  
He glanced down at her and his eyes were bright with emotion. He wanted to say it- had always wanted to say it.  
  
"Sara, I'm here."  
  
"Gris, I-I'm afraid...of-of being alone." Now was not the time for hiding behind walls. What did it matter anymore? That's what she'd always been afraid of and she needed him to know that.  
  
Grissom breathed deeply and tried to keep his emotions in check for her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, then continued stroking her cheek with his thumb, outwardly hiding the growing alarm he felt at the iciness of her skin.  
  
"Sara, look at me. You don't have to be afraid. You never have to be afraid again b-because I'm here. I'll stay with you until the end of time, Sara and you're never going to be alone."  
  
She smiled at him then, for she could do no more. Just before her eyes closed, she whispered, "Nicky, are y-you still there?"  
  
He paused briefly to compose himself as his body shook with quiet sobs. "Y- yeah Sara, I'll always be here."  
  
She closed her eyes then and spoke once more, "Good. Then I'll be fine."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~* TBC...  
  
Yes, I know...it's a cliffhanger. But, fear not, I will have a new chapter up within a day or two. Give me some feedback in the meantime, so I know if you're liking it so far! 


	2. The Waiting

Thanks for the reviews guys! I appreciate it very much. Hope you like this chapter as well!  
  
This was his hell; a building where nothing he'd ever smelled could compare to the stench that permeated through the walls. He'd smelled death before, obviously. But it had never been so real, so alive...so close to him he could feel it burning a hole in his heart. And there was a kind of cold terror that had slowly been gripping his heart since he'd stepped inside.  
  
He stared at the door where surgeons fought to save Sara. Nick, his head bent forward, sat solidly beside him, lips moving silently and forming what Grissom interpreted as a prayer. He'd never seen Nick do that before, but then...Sara had never been shot before. Catherine sat on the other side of him with a blank, haunted look that seemed to say, 'Don't take her away from us.'  
  
A year ago, he would've been surprised, and frankly, he still was somewhat. But he knew, on some level, that Sara and Catherine had formed a bond and he had to smile silently at that.  
  
Warrick paced in front of them, as he'd been doing for the past two hours. Nick slowly lifted his head and spoke with an all-consuming guilt and weariness that would never really go away.  
  
"When she got shot...she told me she was afraid of the dark." And she was, but not the literal dark, of course. Most of her work centered around the darkness of night, but what she spoke of was something far different. The night sky held thousands of stars to light everything up; the darkness that Sara spoke of was a place of utter blackness from which she'd never return should she succumb to it. They all knew this and it ate at their souls; Sara may be an emotional person, but rarely had they ever seen her afraid. For her to feel that way...they shuddered at the thought.  
  
Nick spoke again and his voice trembled in a whisper. "I-Is she going to live?"  
  
Nothing but silence answered him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
If time could be measured with an hourglass, Grissom could count the grains slowly slipping through his fingers. He couldn't fathom the magnitude of this sentence; being doomed to sit here waiting and wondering- imagining all the worst things he could and hoping beyond all hope that none of it would come true. He didn't hold out hope on that, for more than likely, it would.  
  
The door opened and a surgeon stepped out. Grissom's head shot up and he studied the man's face intently. He would know by staring into the disillusioned depths if his life was going to end with the first word that left the surgeon's mouth. A sharp inhale of breath, and he steeled himself. Yes, this was it. Sara was dead and he with her.  
  
"Are you family?"  
  
It was a traditional and extremely trite formality, but they were prepared for it nevertheless as Catherine nodded her head.  
  
The doctor didn't question it because frankly, he didn't care. If they were here, looking that lost, she obviously meant something to each of them and that was enough for him.  
  
"The bullet nicked her pulmonary artery. Had it penetrated, I'd probably be referring you to Hooper Funeral Home right now." He'd done this so many times and each time, it got easier for him, but never for the people left behind. He knew this of course, and tried his best to kep emotions light, but somehow he always ended up failing.  
  
"Uh, she's lost an extremely large amount of blood, with large amounts of internal bleeding as well. That always concerns us because it's harder to catch, obviously, and extremely deadly. Should there be a complication, she could bleed to death internally in a matter of minutes, so everything is touch-and-go right now. She-she's in a coma due to the shock and there's no way to tell when she might wake up. We're moving her to recovery now, and you can see her, but I'd like for you to be aware of the grimness of this. She's on life support and should the time arise, her next of kin-"  
  
The surgeon lifted his clipboard and glanced at the name and continued to speak. "Gil Grissom."  
  
Grissom met his eyes and held them, steeling himself again for what he knew was about to be said.  
  
"Should the time come, Mr.Grissom, that should Miss Sidle's condition detetiorate, the decision on whether to sustain her on life support will ultimately be yours. Do you understand that?"  
  
How could he possibly understand? How could he ever understand why people were made to endure this; to feel helpless, waiting and wondering when death would reach out its icy hand and take their loved ones from this earth forever. No, he would never understand that.  
  
All he could do was merely nod.  
  
The surgeon cleared his throat and then spoke once more after glancing around to see that Sara had been moved.  
  
"You can go see her if you'd like. Uh..." He wanted to say something, anything. But what could he? He'd tried thinking of something each time he'd dealt with this, but all the years and all the experience could still never put the right words in his mind and he merely walked away.  
  
The four walked then to the room in the ICU where the woman whom they'd called family for the past two years lay on the chasm between life and death. 


	3. The Woods are Lovely, Dark and Deep

Again, thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming, it's fueling me to write more. Hope ya enjoy this next installment!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Part 3  
  
He sits there in the semi-darkness, the pale moonlight casting a thin beam into the room. The rain falls steadily outside. It pelts the window and he remembers briefly, a time long ago that he hadn't until just now.  
  
He remembers her bright eyes as they danced with laughter and the whisper of a smile that played on her face. He remembers her grasping his hand and pulling him out from underneath the shelter of the campus roof into the falling rain.  
  
She let go of his hand and closed her eyes and then just stood there, content and free of burdens; as if she shared one little secret with the heavens that no one else could know. Her innocence shined like a beacon and he remembers savoring the moment she ran up to him and their wet clothes clung to each other as though they always had and always should. And she held him with a tightness he hadn't understood but didn't question and smiled as she did so.  
  
He looks at her now and wishes for all the world that they could share that again as the rain continues its torrent. He knows she would love it; she has always loved rain. But it seems fate has other plans and he is content to watch her.  
  
She's laid there for a week now, unchanging and peaceful and he aches at the thought she might never move. He stayed with her the first night, but after that, he'd gone to the scene. So had the rest of them. Not only because it was their job, though that was a major part of it; but also because they bled for it. They needed to know what had happened, how it had happened, and why.  
  
But the why could never be answered. Grissom knew that as long as he lived he'd never know why Sara or any other people for that matter, were subjected to fates such as this or far worse.  
  
He reaches out a hand and strokes her cheek faintly, lovingly; compelling her to wake.  
  
Nick had said Sara seemed scared as she lay there. It was easy for someone to say that nothing frightened them, but it was entirely another to suddenly lay there, feeling the blood soaking beneath you and know the end was fast approaching. Sara was one of the bravest people he knew; but she was also one of the most human. And though she, much like himself, had built a wall around herself that only few could penetrate, he wasn't at all surprised at the subtle fear that pooled in the depths of her soul and the fact that she hadn't fought to hide it.  
  
She didn't cry out, she didn't scream or whine. She barely spoke, and when she did, it was to say goodbye. He realizes, looking back, that he was probably filled with more fear than she and that was indeed a rare thing.  
  
He doesn't know what he feels now. Perhaps it is fear, but not an all- consuming one. Perhaps guilt; guilt at not having gone in with her to pay. He feels regret most of all; regret that he's realized just now what he should've a long time ago.  
  
It isn't a fear so much as a known truth; Sara is his constant and should she not make it, he wonders how he will go on simply breathing.  
  
Brushing back a stray hair, he sighs wearily and blinks away the slightest hint of fatigue as he continues his vigil.  
  
Footsteps in the doorway catch his attention and he glances up at the silhouette briefly. Catherine stands there with a small book in her hand and moves forward, not questioning the blackness that envelopes the room. She merely takes a seat opposite Grissom and pulls her chair closer to Sara.  
  
This is their routine. They all came when they could and stayed until sleep or work beckoned them. Then they'd return and begin the cycle once more. This was how it was and how it would be to the end of eternity if it came to that.  
  
Catherine whispers, though she doesn't know why and rubs a hand fondly over the book she holds as she speaks.  
  
"She told me once not too long ago that this was her favorite poem. I never understood why, but then I read it over and over until it hit me. The last stanza...it-it reminds me of her somehow and I can't explain it."  
  
Grissom nodded, for he's known it was her favorite, and he too had applied it to her and most especially to the situation she is currently in. Grissom urges Catherine to read the last stanza as they sit there.  
  
Catherine opens the book to the page with frayed and slightly faded edges from constant use and draws in a breath as she slowly, hauntingly, reads the stanza.  
  
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep..."  
  
Just before the last line is read, Grissom grasps Sara's hand and raises it to his lips then recites the repititious line with Catherine as the rain continues to pelt the world outside.  
  
"And miles to go before I sleep." 


	4. The Flame

Part 4  
  
The flame flickers in the air as he holds it in his hands. He honestly doesn't know what he is doing, but feels that somehow, this is what he should do. As a scientist, he rarely considers the presence of a higher power, as he's relied on concrete observations and things he can actually see.  
  
He admires those whose faith sustains them and faintly wishes he can find even the smallest fraction of that comfort. He wonders what Sara believes and realizes it doesn't matter, because he's at his wit's end and if being here in this chapel and lighting a candle will bring her back to them- to him; then all the science in the world could not stop him from doing this.  
  
His hand trembles as he positions the candle in its cradle near the front of the tiny chapel. Taking a seat once again in the pew, he gazes around the room at the other lost souls as they pray desperately and plead for their loved ones to be spared. He studies them intently; the way their hands are clasped and the words their lips form.  
  
Grissom leans forward and awkwardly, unnaturally, forms his hands together. He closes his eyes and bows his head and says a prayer for her and then recites one that he hasn't since he was a little boy and his mother softly held his hand as they sang hymns in a tiny church that he barely remembers. He speaks the words he hasn't spoken in ages and is surprised to find he remembers most of them. Standing, he exits and hopes that somehow, somewhere, the message was received even if he doesn't believe it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nick watches her as they all have; hoping she'll blink or her hand will move just the slightest fraction of an inch.  
  
He feels the enormity and grimness of the situation more so now than he previously had. If Grissom is scared...no, that wouldn't be the right word. Worried. If Grissom is worried enough to pray in a chapel in a hospital that he loathes then things couldn't be more bleak and the thought terrifies Nick in a way nothing else has.  
  
He wonders when Sara started becoming so important to him and realizes he feels the same about the rest of them, except Sara is the one lying in a coma.  
  
He keeps playing that moment out in his mind over and over and over. Thinking of small little details and things he could've done that he hadn't and the guilt is beginning to drive him insane but he doesn't care. He dreams about it and it's with him for every waking moment, but he can't ever change it.  
  
And he's afraid that death will finally decide it's Sara's time to go and knows he can never bring her back.  
  
"Damnit Sara, why did you do it? I was ready. I should've been-"  
  
No one cuts him off, but he stops of his own volition and realizes it wouldn't have been easier on anyone, save Grissom perhaps, if he'd been the one shot. But it surely would've have eased his own heartbreak and he still pleads silently with Sara for an answer he know will never come.  
  
Nick leans over and softly kisses her forehead then speaks slowly.  
  
"Sara, you just wake up whenever you're ready. And-and I'll be here when that happens." That's all he can think of to say and he hopes that's enough. 


	5. Promises to Keep

Oh goodness, thank you all so much for your reviews. They are just wonderful and I'm flattered. Glad you're enjoying the story and I anticipate having one or two more chapters after this so just bear with me a bit longer.  
  
BTW, this is a Sara/Grissom story. I know some of you were pushing for N/S, but I'm a GSR shipper, sorry. Hope you enjoy this anyway! Thanks to those of you at the G/S message board, you guys are great. And again, everyone who reviewed...thanks a bunch, keep them coming!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He fights to grasp each memory of her with a ferocity that scares him at times.  
  
He fears that soon she will be nothing more than a brief, passing thought in the cruel mists of time.  
  
A long time ago, when he still felt like smiling for no reason and her laughter could carry across the room, they watched the Christmas tree lighting in Rockefeller Center on television and she spoke to him in a far- off voice informing him that she wanted to go there someday and watch it; then skate on the ice until her cheeks were numb.  
  
At the time, the promise seemed to slip from his mouth off its own volition and he assured her that some day she would and he would be the one to take her. It had been a surreal moment, almost suspended above time and she had smiled at him in a way that he aches to see again.  
  
He realizes suddenly that Christmas is nearing and he had planned on taking her this year. The conversation plays over in his mind then and he's troubled by the ominous tone Sara had that he'd not taken seriously or even paid attention to until now.  
  
She hugs her arms around herself, her hands buried as the sleeves reach well past the tips, and curls up as tight as she can on the couch as the two of them watch the tree-lighting.  
  
"I want to go there someday. I mean, I always have- ever since I was a little kid. I-I don't know why...I guess it's just a silly childish thing that I never grew out of."  
  
She pauses then, almost expectingly, waiting for a reassurance from him and he knows this, as he always has.  
  
"You'll get there someday, Sara." He looks over at her, wondering if he should say it. "And I'll be the one to take you."  
  
She smiles brightly for a moment, then it fades quickly, replaced by a sad, almost resigned smile.  
  
"Thanks, Grissom."  
  
Then quietly, she speaks again. "I know I'll get there someday. But by then...it will be too late."  
  
He glances at her in the semi-darkness, puzzling over the meaning of that statement, but soon shrugs it off and turns his attention once more to the ceremony.  
  
He knows she wasn't really referring to her death, but in retrospect, it is too eerily coincidental and he wishes he can ask her about it now.  
  
He runs his hand over the Robert Frost book that is laying by her bed and smiles. It's one of those things few people know about Sara- and one of the qualities he likes most; her quiet, underlying passion for poetry, specifically Frost. He remembers hearing her favorite ones over and over again as she recited them from memory throughout the years whenever the mood struck her.  
  
He remembers enjoying all of them, especially the one Catherine had read a mere three days ago. However, one had really stuck with him and for reasons he doesn't know, he remembers the last part of it and feels the need to recite it to her as she had done for him so many years ago.  
  
"So was I once myself a swinger of birches.  
  
And so I dream of going back to be.  
  
It's when I'm weary of considerations,  
  
And life is too much like a pathless wood  
  
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs  
  
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping  
  
From a twig's having lashed across it open.  
  
I'd like to get away from earth awhile  
  
And then come back to it and begin over.  
  
May no fate willfully misunderstand me  
  
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away  
  
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:  
  
I don't know where it's likely to go better.  
  
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,  
  
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk  
  
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,  
  
But dipped its top and set me down again.  
  
That would be good both going and coming back.  
  
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches."  
  
Many would dispute him for years to come, but he swears a faint smile graces her face as he recites the last line and he knows she's proud of him, wherever she is.  
  
He glances at the clock now, as though it is methodically counting down the last minutes of his life and he feels as though it is. The others, of course, had said their goodbyes as best they could.  
  
He knows the doctor will walk through that door in a matter of minutes and he will have to confirm for the last time that Sara should be taken off of life support. He can't imagine a harder decision and knows that it will haunt him the rest of his days. They tell him she still has a chance, but he doesn't believe their half-hearted lies. He wants to, more than anything he wants to. But he's always relied on practicality and he refuses to continue living under a haze of illusions and false hopes. Sara understands; he hopes to God she does.  
  
His hand trembles as he reaches out to grasp hers. He warms it between his larger ones and grips it with the intention of never letting go.  
  
It's been a while since he's spoken to her and he doesn't trust himself at first.  
  
"I-I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to say goodbye."  
  
He leans over and kisses her cheek, then briefly, her lips. He expects nothing, but wonders if their first kiss will also be their last.  
  
"I love you, Sara. I don't think you'll ever know just how much, but I-I just wanted to tell you before..."  
  
Before what, he doesn't know, and the sentence remains unfinished.  
  
"So I won't say goodbye, Sara. And I won't cry because tears are for goodbyes and goodbyes are forever."  
  
He never understood the concept of crying. It seemed to him as an emotion that no one could control. It either happened, or it didn't. And to him, it never meant you were less of a man if you cried or less of a human being if you didn't. He wants to cry, has been fighting it since he stepped into her room 10 minutes ago and he doesn't understand it. It is an emotion he's never felt before and has no idea what to do with it.  
  
It is very "un-Grissom", but frankly, he doesn't give a damn. He is only human, after all. He just fears if he does, that will mean she really is gone and he's not ready to let her go.  
  
The doctor's footsteps on the cold tile lift him from his fog and he knows he will always associate that sound with death subconsciously.  
  
No words need to be said and Grissom merely nods his head. He stands to go, as he doesn't want to be there when they unhook her. He runs one hand fondly down her cheek for what he can only hope is not the last time and moves to exit the room.  
  
Throwing one last glance at her still form, Grissom turns away and bows his head as a lone tear cascades down his cheek. He doesn't bother to wipe it and as he walks down the white corridor, the cord to the machine sustaining Sara's life is pulled and a shallow breath escapes her lips.  
  
----------------  
  
TBC....hey, that could be a good thing, right? Then again, maybe not... 


	6. Before I Sleep

He leaves the room and doesn't look back. Regrets. So many regrets. He's surrounded by death and yet, there's one passing he cannot bear to see; Sara's.  
  
Should she leave him, he prefers not to see it.  
  
Warrick looks at him with expectant eyes, but he can offer no reassurances.  
  
Catherine's head is bowed and she doesn't look up. Nick is in the same state he's been in since this nightmare began.  
  
Grissom glances back down the long corridor and holds his breath as the doctor exits the room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She hovers between consciousness and the fogginess of oblivion; fights desperately to grab hold of the fragile rope that leads her safely back to the world she's always known.  
  
Breathing always was something that she never thought about, until now as she struggles for each breath.  
  
As she comes to the surface, voices float all around her.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
She can't reply, of course. Catherine's voice continues calling for her, and all she can manage is a whimper.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
Warrick now. Standing near her head. She can feel his gentle hands running through her hair.  
  
Finally, her eyes open and a bright flash greets her at first, only to fade into the smiling faces of her friends, her "family."  
  
Nick's arms are crossed, but he immediately drops them and runs a hand gently up her arm, just wanting to feel the warmth of her life.  
  
Warrick leans down and drops a kiss onto her head.  
  
"Welcome back, Sara. We...we missed you."  
  
Sara turns her head towards Catherine's soothing voice. She vaguely remembers what happened, but her eyes question.  
  
"We'll talk about it later. But, I think you need some rest."  
  
She wants to protest, but her body thinks differently. She fights though, for there's one face she hasn't seen yet- the one she wants the most: Grissom's.  
  
Warrick, picking up on this, calmly states, "We'll go get him."  
  
Catherine leans down and gives Sara what can only be described as a hug. Nick plants a kiss on Sara's cheek, and though his eyes show nothing but happiness on the surface, Sara sees a deep sadness and guilt underneath and she mentally reminds herself to ask him about this.  
  
With that, they are gone and silence envelops the room. Sara fights her drooping eyelids and is just about to doze off when footsteps enter the doorway.  
  
Grissom is standing there with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. He walks to her side with a purpose and uncertainty at the same time.  
  
With all the strength she can muster, Sara stretches out her hand and watches as Grissom cradles it as though it is a lifeline; the only thing binding her stay on this earth. He knows she is alive, and that merely letting go of her hand will not change this, but he clings to her nonetheless with a ferocity that scares her and thrills her at the same time.  
  
"Grissom..."  
  
Her throat is raspy and all she can manage is a croak of a word masked with sleepiness that is barely above a whisper. He, however, cherishes the word in its simplicity.  
  
"Sara, why don't you get some rest?"  
  
Damnit, she thinks. Sleeping is the last thing she wants to do, but it's coming over her like a tidal wave and unconsciousness is imminent. She has so much she wants to say to him, and she can tell he too feels the same. He reaches up to turn off the light and for a moment, she panics, but the continued pressure of his hand reassures her.  
  
She wants to ask him, but can't form a complete sentence just yet, so he answers it for her.  
  
"I'll stay here all night, Sara."  
  
She loves the sound of his voice and it helps to ease her into a peaceful oblivion.  
  
Just before she drifts off, he kisses her forehead and whispers, "There's no where else I'd rather be."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
THE END  
  
Well, I didn't want the ending to be too sappy...I'm saving those kinds of endings for some more CSI fics I've got in the making.  
  
In closing, I just want to give a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and who read and enjoyed my story. You guys are just awesome and thanks for the encouragement and kind words.  
  
So...what do ya think? Did it stink, or would you like to read some more of my stories in the near future? 


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